One
Eddy ate dynamite; good bye, Eddy.
If you're not someone much acquainted with a guitar, your immediate reaction would be something on the terms of "Say What?"
Otherwise, you'd know what's next.
Don't worry, Eddy didn't eat dynamite, he didn't die and doesn't exist. This is just a mnemonic (those quirky sentences you make to remember a set of first letters for some other reference) most amateur guitarists use to remember the note of each string on the guitar. Eddy Ate Dynamite, Good Bye Eddy; EADGBE. I'll add a simple diagram below for your reference:
Dylan drew something like this for me last month when he helped re-string my guitar. Not my guitar actually... it belongs to the college dean who lent it to me on the condition that I used it well. Dylan is the dean's nephew here at college and he has been teaching me the guitar for the past few months. Dylan and his amazing smile, his cute, crooked teeth and the brightest eyes that shine through his thin rimmed glasses. Let's cut to the chase, I'm quite certain I might just be in love with him. But of course, as most first crushes begin, he's far too old for me. And anyway, that's not the point here. Well maybe, I'm not sure.
Dylan's been saying I'm really good at catching the hang of things. He also says I could perform for the college Christmas program at college next month if I kept practicing which made me feel bubbly inside. I can't help but picture us performing together... even if it won't mean anything. It won't, will it? That's what was going through my head that morning.
I'm not a college student, by the way... remember, he's too old for me. I only just turned 14. (Dylan is 22) I'm here because my dad is a visiting lecturer and chaplain here... It's just the two of us; my dad and me and we've been moving houses all my life; which brings me to today. The day dad dropped the bombshell.
I was washing the dishes this morning –dishes that he had promised to wash- when he walked in holding a letter in one hand, kept his empty coffee cup on the sink top with the other. Then, with his eyes still on the letter, spontaneously announced; "Evanna, I think we'll be moving to Colombo in two weeks".
Let me take a moment to say that I was thankful I was washing his coffee mug at that very moment and not the large soaking greasy pot from last night; because the cup immediately slipped out of my hand and shattered on the ground, splashing my glasses and favourite white F.R.I.E.N.D.S. top with soapy coffee water. It was still disgusting but better than greasy water. Ergh.
"Seven years of good luck from a broken porcelain cup, right?" He chuckled, obviously trying to change the subject while I was just taking a few seconds to process the subject.
Colombo was so far away.
"I wasn't very fond of that cup anyway so that's a good riddance." He continued "But next time, you should use that apron I found the other day..."
"...YEAH, right!" I yelled, taking off my dripping glasses. "The apron you found when you finished unpacking from the LAST TIME we moved!" I continued, instantly forgetting I was a soapy, dripping mess. We only moved here LAST YEAR! You know I wanted to be here for the Christmas show! THIS ISN'T FAIR!!"
Tears started bursting out of my eyes as I proceeded to dramatically stomp away and let him finish the dishes himself. The soapy, slippery kitchen floor didn't really help me make a dramatic exit but I managed to leave without completely slipping and falling flat onto the ground. I could hear him calling out to me as I walked out of the house "But Evy! You know......" But I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I just wanted to zone out.
I remember feeling anger and hurt so badly that moment, I just couldn't stop myself from sniffing like a baby. It was embarrassing to think this had more to do with Dylan than I wanted to admit. I was so lost and numb with pain that I had forgotten my top was literally soaking in coffee-soap water but I did keep my glasses off because it's quite inconvenient to cry when you have your glasses on. I then made my blurry way to my little quiet spot behind the college library and proceeded to cry my heart out. I let all the happy memories of the past year flow through my thoughts. It was the only way to let go to stop myself crying.
I also couldn't help making my own version of the mnemonic.
Evanna Associated Dylan, Good Bye Evanna.
YOU ARE READING
Guitar Strings
Teen FictionMost friends are like guitar strings... some break easily, some are stronger. But eventually you will have to replace them with time. 14 y/o Evanna has to learn that the hard way.